Unborn Heart
by JenLea
Summary: Five pregnant divas, all struggling through various situations (I suck at summaries!)
1. Die Without You

          She stared up at the ceiling as the baby she was pregnant with kicked. She had never felt more alone. The baby's father had left right after she had told him she was pregnant. 

          "Oh, Darling, your daddy will come to his senses" she thought. She walked into the kitchen and sighed as she picked up a banana. 

          Ever since he had left, the house had been silent. She missed him like crazy, despite of what he had done. In a way, she could understand why he had did it, but it still broke her heart.  He had been the one she had given her virginity. Nobody knew the baby was a virginity baby, not planned but still loved gratefully.  The last eight months had brought tears and fears. It scared her to think in the matter of mere weeks, she would be bringing a child into this world. 

          "What we need is a good walk," she thought as she threw her banana peel in the garbage.  She sighed as she closed the door and walked out. 

          Two hours later… She gasped as she realized her door was open. She was sure she had closed and locked it. She slowly walked in.

          "Is that you?" a familiar voice asked.

          "Tommy?" she asked, surprised. 

          "That's my name, don't wear it out" he said. She walked as fast as she could into the living room. There sitting on the couch was Tom Laughlin a.k.a Tommy Dreamer.  

          "You're back," she said, trying not to sound excited. He looked at her.

          "Sweetie, I never actually left. I've been living in a hotel, going crazy without you. All those hang-ups you've been getting…" he started to say.

          "That was you?" she asked. 

          "Yeah, I wanted to hear your voice. I know I haven't shown it in the last few months, but I still love you," he said.

          She looked at him. "Give me one good reason why I should forgive you," she muttered. He doubled over as she experienced a sharp burst of pain. "We can discuss this later. Just get me to the hospital," 

          "Why?" he asked. She looked at him. 

          "I'm experiencing contractions," she informed him

          Twenty hours later… Tommy bit his lip as he felt his hand literally crack. She had been in labor for twenty hours.

          "Ok, you are 10 centimeters, next contraction, you can push" Dr. Marlbora said. 

           "Ok, thank you" Tommy muttered.  She reached over and hit him in the head.

          "You can easily leave," she screamed.

          "OK, push, 12345678 and breathe. Good, push" Dr. Marlbora said. She pushed with all her mite. The pain was excruciating. "12345678 and a deep breath. You're doing great, just relax" 

          She let out an ear-piercing scream. "You're crowning. I can see a head full of hair. You can do this," the doctor told her. She screamed as she pushed. "Stop for a second, the head's out, push, 12345678 and stop. Shoulders are out. One more little push should do it." The doctor told her. She let out a single scream as she gave her final push.

          Thirty minutes later… She looked up as Tommy handed her their newborn daughter. The woman felt the tears impossible to hold back.

          "Hi, My Girl. Molly Renee Greenwald-Laughlin" she sobbed. Tommy took the bundle and looked at the face of his sleeping daughter. 

          "I can't believe I was going to leave this darling child. She's absolutely perfect," he said. She looked at him. 

          "I love you," she said. This brought Tommy great joy, because one day earlier, she was prepared to hate him for the rest of her life.

          "I love you too, Nora" 

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Read and review 

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Disclaimer: I own no one except the doctor and the baby. They are the property of the WWE No copyright infringement is intended.

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	2. The Lucky One

          Her cell phone rang, waking her out of a dead sleep. She fumbled for the phone and answered it.

          "Hello?" she asked.

          "Hi, is this Patricia Helms?" 

          "This is she. May I ask whose calling?"

          "My name is John Chavez; I'm with the North Carolina State Police. I regret to inform you that your husband, Gregory Helms was in a car accident,"

          "Oh my god, is he alright?" 

          "I can't give that information over the phone, but he's at Raleigh General." 

          "Thank you, Sir," she said, hanging up. She struggled to her feet and sighed. She had to figure out a way to get to Raleigh with injuring herself. She was 37 weeks pregnant and in a prime spot in her pregnancy for labor. In addition, there was the fact she could not fit behind the wheel any longer.

          Against her better judgment, she picked up her phone and dialed Shane's best friend, despite the fact it was 2:30 in the morning.

          "Hello?" she heard Jeff's wife, Nidia say. Trish felt horrible, for the woman only sounded half-awake. 

          "Hi, Nidia, this is Trish, could you wake Jeff up?" 

          "He's up already with Rhiannon," she said, referring to their two-month-old daughter.

          "Can I talk to him?" she asked. 

          "Sure," 

          "Trish, what's wrong?" Jeff asked, coming to the phone. 

          "Shane was in a car accident and I need a ride to Raleigh. I'd drive myself except I'm too big to fit behind the wheel" 

          "Be right over" he said, hanging up. Trish struggled to her feet and went over to a dresser. She pulled out a plain white t-shirt and a pair of black stretch pants. She quickly threw them on, paying no attention to the active baby, within. 

          When she paid no attention to her unborn child, you could pretty much guarantee something was wrong. Ever since the baby had started moving, Trish would do something to acknowledge the fact her child was moving. In fact, it wasn't uncommon to walk in and find her talking to her belly.

          "Sweetie, calm down" she thought with a quick pat to the belly. 

          Twenty minutes later… Trish sighed as she looked at Jeff. She knew she owed him a great favor for leaving his family at two in the morning to help her. 

          "What hospital?" he asked.

          "Raleigh General, I just hope he's alright," she told him. He looked at her.

          "Anytime, Shane's my best friend. I was snowed in when The WWE was in Baltimore. Nidia went into labor. Who helped her? Shane" Jeff said. Trish sighed. She knew he was right. 

          "Jeff, what if he's dead? I don't know if I can raise Greg by myself." Trish said.

          "Greg? I thought you were having a girl," he said.

          "I am; her name will be Gregoria Simone. If we ever have a boy, his name will be Patrick Aidan," she told him.

          "Trish, Shane is a fighter. There is no way a car accident will kill Shane Helms," he said. Trish sighed, hoping he was right. 

          One hour later… Trish sighed as they pulled up to the hospital. She made a mental note, never to drive with Jeff again. What was normally a two-hour trip turned into an hour with Jeff basically ignoring the speed limit.  

          "Come on, Jeffro" she said, using the nickname he couldn't stand. 

          "Trish, if you weren't pregnant, I'd leave you on the curb," he said. She sighed, feeling a sharp kick from the baby.

          "Jeff, I am so nervous," she said. He looked at her.

          "Trish, if anything happens to Shane, I will help you through it all. Shane did a great favor to me, and I can never repay him," Jeff said. She rushed into the hospital. 

          "Excuse me, my husband was brought in, following a car accident" she told a desk clerk.

          The woman, whose nametag read Miranda, looked at her. 

          "Your husband's name?" she asked.

          "Gregory Helms" Trish replied. Miranda typed it into a computer. Her eyes widened as she read the screen. Her eyes fell upon Trish's belly and sighed.

          "Dr. Mason, Mr. Helms' wife is here," she said. Trish immediately noticed a look in Miranda's eyes that she couldn't quite understand. 

          "Mrs. Helms, as the police informed you, your husband was brought in, following a car accident. A drunk driver struck him. I am going to be honest, Mrs. Helms, it does not look good. He has head trauma, a broken arm, numerous cuts and abrasions. In my medical opinion, he's never going to wake up. He's intubated, which means…"

          "I know what intubated means!" she exclaimed. 

          "There's a good chance he may never come off the ventilator. Even if he did, I would think he would need extensive therapy to regain the use of basic motor skills. He would never be the same," Dr. Mason told her. Trish looked at her.

          "None of that matters. Percentage wise, what's his chance for recovery?" she asked.

          "At the moment, I'd say 40% that he'd come out of the coma with full motor skills. We don't know if he'd be able to walk, we don't know if he'd be impotent, all you can do now is pray," Dr. Mason said. 

          "Whether he's impotent doesn't matter to me, what I know is if he were to beat this, would he remember me?" she asked.  

          "We really don't know. Any more questions?" Dr. Mason asked.

          "Yes, are you qualified in Obstetrics?" Trish asked. 

          "Yes, are you in labor?" she asked.

          "Yes, my water just broke" Trish informed her.

          One hour later… Trish sighed as she looked at her new daughter. Gregoria Simone Helms had been born after a labor of thirty minutes. She weighed 6 pounds, 5ounces and was the spitting image of her father. 

          "Trish, you aren't going to believe this!" Jeff exclaimed. Trish looked at him.

          "Yes?" she asked.

          "He opened his eyes!" he exclaimed. "Dr. Mason's going to pull him off the ventilator." 

          "What?" She asked interested. 

          "Dr. Mason doesn't know for sure but it looks like he's going to be fine," Jeff said.

          "Let me go see him," she said. Jeff looked at her.

          "We'll have to drop Greg in the nursery," he told her. 

          "Yes, Jeff" Trish replied. 

          Two hours later… Trish marveled over her husband, who was doing fine. She could not believe that this was the same man who little over three hours ago had been given such a grim diagnosis.

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Preview: Sand and Water (Chyna+ HBK) 


	3. Sand and Water

          Joanie sighed as she looked out the hospital window. Being there brought back horrible memories.

          The last time she had been in a hospital was the time her husband, Michael had died. 

          "Oh, Michael, did you ever know you would be destined to die by the age of thirty-six? Did you ever realize you'd never get to see your daughter grow up?" she thought. 

          "Joanie, I just heard about your daughter, congratulations" Paul Levesque, her ex-boyfriend said. She looked out the window.

"I'm sure you miss Mike and I know I can never take his place, but if there's anything I can do," 

          "There's nothing you can do. Unless you can heal a broken heart or revive the dead," she said. Paul sighed. It had been six months since Michael's death, and she had not smiled since.

          He knew Joanie partially blamed herself. She had just discovered she was pregnant, and had taken him out to dinner. In the middle of the meal, he died of a brain aneurysm. 

          "Jo, it wasn't your fault. Nothing could have prevented it," he whispered. She looked at him, a wild look in her eye.

          "You shouldn't say anything, you still have your precious Stephanie, and you have the chance to see your kids grow. Me? I'm a widowed single mother. My daughter will never get to see her father," she sobbed.

          "What's her name?" Michael asked.

          "Michelle Shawna" she replied. Paul gasped, as he realized that transferred into a masculine name, it became "Michael Shawn".    

          "Jo, Michael loved you so much. You were all he could talk about. He told me he would die before letting anyone hurt you," Paul told her. Joanie looked at him.

          "Paul, I know you mean well, but I just want to be alone. By the way, see if the nurse will bring in Michelle," she said, staring out the window. 

          "Will do," he said. She looked at him, finding it odd that he was so concerned.

          "Why am I feeling so sorry for myself?" she asked, confused. Paul walked in, carrying a silent bundle of blankets. 

          "Jo, she looks just like Michael," he told her.

          "Thank you" she said, taking the baby. Michelle let out an ear- piercing wail. "Sweetie, its okay,"

          Two days later… Joanie sighed as she stared out at the calm water. A peaceful calm fell over her. 

          The waves began to crash loudly. Looking at the waves, she knew it was Michael's way of telling her everything would be all right.

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Disclaimer: I own nothing. The Wrestlers are the sole property of the WWE 

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Preview: Never Had a Dream (Jacqueline+Bradshaw) 


	4. Never had a dream

          Warning: Contains racism! (Not too extreme)

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Jacqueline bit her lip as she felt a contraction come on. She was having her first child and she was in excruciating pain.

          "John, where are you?" she asked as she struggled to keep warm. 

          Jacqueline had gone into labor in the middle of the city. She had been out shopping. Despite her phone calls, he had yet to answer.

          She turned around at the sound of somebody stopping in front of her. 

          "Jacqueline?" a man asked. Despite her pain, she was still cautious.

          "Who are you?" she asked, protecting her belly as best as she could.

          "It's Michael Manna, you know Lisa Moretti's husband?" he asked.

          "Where are you going?" she asked.

          "Hospital, Lisa just had our first child, a healthy 11 lb girl, Anabelle Rose," he replied. Jacqueline looked at him.

          "Would you drive me to the hospital? I'm having contractions and my husband is no where to be found." She told him. Michael looked at her. 

          "Hop in," Michael replied. Jacqueline quickly got in the car and shut the door with a loud slam. 

          "How far apart are the contractions?" he asked. She held a finger as she experienced another one.

          "Two minutes," she replied.

          "Two minutes? How long have you been out there?" he asked. 

          "About an hour, but I've been having irregular contractions all day," Jacqueline said. She muffled a scream as a contraction came on suddenly.

          "Jack, hold it in as long as you can, we're on our way," Michael said.

          "Where is John?" she asked.

          "What? You don't know?" he asked.

          "No, he dropped me off at 12:30 and told me to call him, when I was ready to leave," she said.

          "Its 5:30 now, where is he?" Michael asked.

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          "Let me out! I'm telling you I'm not responsible for that fire! I am not the serial arsonist!" John exclaimed.

          Right after dropping Jacqueline off, he had been stopped and arrested for being a suspected arsonist. Now, he was getting 545 pages, which meant Jackie was in labor and needed him to get her. 

          "My wife's in labor! I'm going to miss the birth of our first child!" he exclaimed.

          A police officer looked at him. 

          "Likely excuse, Mr. Layfield," he said. John punched a wall in frustration as his cell phone went off again.

          "Don't I get one phone call?" he asked.

          "Yes, you do, I'll let you out to take it," the officer informed him. He led John out to the phone.

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          Jacqueline sighed as her phone rang.

          "Hello?" she asked, curious about who was calling, due to the fact the caller ID read "Houston Police department" 

          "Jackie, it's me, John! I need help!"

          "Where are you?" 

          "They've got me in lock-up"

          "One second," she said as she felt a contraction begin.

          "Contraction?" 

          "Hell yeah!" 

          "They've got me in lock-up!"

          "Why do they have you in lock-up?"

          "They think I'm the Houston arsonist!"  
          "We'll be right there!"

          "What do you mean by we?"

          "I'm in the car with Michael Manna," 

          "Ok, ask him to bail me out" 

          "I plan to tag along," 

          "You're in labor!"

          "John, do you want to spend the night there?" 

          "No!"

          "We'll be right there, I need the address and the amount of bail"  
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          John sighed as he hung the phone up.

          "My wife is coming with my bail," he informed the officer.

          "We might have to contain her for questioning; the arsonist always has a female companion," 

          "A black woman?" John asked.

          "Yes," the officer replied.

          "She's in labor," John said quickly.

          "Right and she's coming to bail you out, my wife's had eight kids and would never bail me out in labor," the officer said.

          "Our wives are totally different; you don't know my Jackie," he said.

          "Your Jackie? Boy, your wife must be stupid, where'd you meet her? Burger King?" he asked, laughing. It angered John to hear Jackie being degraded.

          "Actually, we met at a wrestling match," he said. The officer looked at him.

          "My husband, we've come to bail my husband out!" Jackie exclaimed as she burst in.

          The officer turned around and with a ridiculous grin said, "Ma'm, we'll have to keep you for questioning, concerning the arsonist"

          "What? I'm in labor!" she exclaimed. The officer snickered. 

          "Really? I'm suppose to believe a white man would marry a black woman? That's against the bible!" he exclaimed. Jacqueline grasped Michael's shoulder as she doubled over in pain, with a contraction.

          "How far apart?" Michael asked.

          "Minute and a half," she replied, tears forming in her eyes.

          "Can I bail them out?" Michael asked.

          "No, you're being held, too for being an accessory to arson," he said.

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          Twenty minutes later… Jacqueline let a loud moan as she had another contraction.

          "WHAT ARE THEY HOLDING US FOR?" she asked.

          "He thinks we're arsonists. How far apart are the contractions?" he asked/

          "Thirty seconds; John, it looks like our little Devonny is coming whether we like or not," she told him. 

          "Devonny? That's unusual; where did you get the idea?" he asked. 

          "I read a book called "Prisoner of Time" ©.  The main character is a woman named Devonny Victoria Aurelia Stratton. Our little one reacted so strongly when I mentioned the name, we took it as a sign, her name is Devonny Victoria Aurelia," Jacqueline replied.

          "Virgil, your shift is up," a female officer said. 

          "I caught the Houston arsonist and his accomplices!" Virgil exclaimed.

          The officer had just had a baby and recognized the signs of labor.

          "Virgil Wyatt Smith, you bigot, those aren't the arsonists. That woman's in labor!" she exclaimed. 

          Jacqueline let out a loud scream as she experienced the strongest contraction ever. 

          "Ma'm, I am horribly sorry. That man is basically racist," she said as she went to unlock the door. 

          "Call an ambulance," John said. 

          "Jamie, you can't let them out. She's not in labor," Virgil said.

          Jamie looked at them and mouthed, "Don't worry," 

Jacqueline moaned again.

          "Where were you last night?" Jamie asked.

          "I was in the hospital all night with my wife. She had our first child early this morning," Michael told her. 

          "We were in the hospital all night, because they were monitoring irregular Braxton-Hicks contractions," John said. 

          "Impossible, she's not pregnant," Virgil said and to prove his point, walked up to her and slapped her.

          While Michael was struggling to hold John back, Jacqueline crept over to the toilet and gasped as she realized her water had broken, and the head was coming quickly.

          "John, it's time, she's coming, whether we like it or not," she moaned.

          "Call an ambulance," Michael said as he went to aide them.

          "Virgil, call an ambulance and give me your jacket," Jamie said as she rushed to help her.

          "No, I am not giving her my jacket," he said. 

          "Jacks, it's alright, her head's almost here," John said.  Jacqueline pushed again.

          Five minutes later… All of Jacqueline's hard and painful work was through, the second she heard Devonny cry.

          "Now, Virgil, will you call an ambulance?" Jamie asked as she set Devonny on Jacqueline's chest. 

          "No, I don't believe that child should the station alive," he said. Jamie looked at him. "It is against God!" 

          "No, whatever you do, don't kill my baby," Jacqueline pleaded.

          Nobody saw Michael quietly texting a message to Mark "Undertaker" Calloway. He was their last hope.

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          "Mark, your cell phone is going off," Sara, his wife, muttered half-asleep. 

          He picked up the cell phone and read the message. After seeing that message, all he could for a few moments was gasp.

The message read like this: M.C, SOS, Hostage in Police station; JL had baby; Officer Wants it killed, Won't let us go. HELP! Houston Police Department main, MM

          "Sara, I'll be back," he said.

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          Mark pulled in front of the Houston Police Department. He gasped when he heard a gun shot. 

          Picking up his phone, he quickly dialed 911.

          Ten minutes later… A squad car pulled in front of the department. Mark was pacing, because Jacqueline Layfield was his best female friend. 

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          "You shot your partner!" John exclaimed, outraged.  Jacqueline was now crying softly as the body of Jamie, the kind female officer lay in a pool of blood, next to her. 

          "Now, nothing will stop me from killing that baby now!" he exclaimed, a wild look in his eyes. He aimed his pistol at the helpless infant and began to pull the trigger. 

          "NO!" Michael exclaimed as he threw himself in the path of the bullet.

          "Michael, God, please let us get out of this alive," she silently prayed. She turned her head at the sound of Michael moaning in pain.

          "He shot me in the leg!" Michael exclaimed. At that exact moment, dozens of officers stormed in.

          "Thank God," John said. Virgil aimed his gun and was about to fire another shot.  As the sound of fire resided through the station, John took the bullet for his wife and new child. 

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          Jacqueline looked down at her daughter. At the last moment, they had changed her name to Jamie Rose, in honor of the officer who had died trying to help them.  

          Two days had passed since the shooting and all three of them were haunted by nightmares of the disaster.  

          Jacqueline looked at Jamie as she nursed. She couldn't believe what she had learned about the officer. 

          Her name had been Jamie Rose Pinkerton. She was on her first shift after the birth of her daughter. Like Jacqueline and John, she was a member in an intra racial relationship.  Because of that, Virgil Smith hated her. 

          John was in critical condition and although, his chances for survival were good, they knew anything could change. 

          "Oh Sweetie, you're a miracle, Doctors told us we'd never have children and then, you survived an ordeal that left a great woman and man dead," Jacqueline said.

          Michael had passed after the shot had passed through his lung. He had literally drowned in his own blood. 

          Virgil Smith was up for two counts of first-degree murder, and was a candidate for the death penalty. 

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Preview: One Sweet Day (Steven Richards+ Ivory)


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